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lyrics

You left me like a mugged storage
For surgical instruments
You left a drank up brook
With fervid gangrene for me to descend

You cut the chord
You threw some jacks overboard

Morse code of the 30's
With a thin-skinned sealed alliance
Negotiating all those lunar craters
Passed in real-time science
I'd like to get these pictures
And drown them like young child dogs

Stay with your bonefish-crew
I chaff my memories with the screw
You cut the chord
You threw all your jacks overboard

You only swim
With fishes at the hook
You only swim
With fishes at the hook
That's your kind of freedom
That's okay
It's your normal way
That's your kind of disorder
That's all fine
Oh baby-blue I got mine...

credits

from Seven Years of Gulliver, released February 1, 2011

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The Vévé Seashore Hamburg, Germany

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